Stories of her joy abound;Proselytes drawn from miles around.Bring hopesAnd dreams.Best also bringYour skills and strength,For she will rend the weakTo shreds.

Before the black fades from the sky,Her lights pale;Their sparkle gone.She loses interest in the throng;Slinks off with petulant sigh.Leaving you to fend and fight,She roars in her nightmarishSleepless night.

Shrieks of anger and anguishReplace her nymphish song.She burps onto pavementsGhouls with machetes, batons and hate.

Once her evening dance is through,She has no further interest in you.​If you don’t have a place to belongOutside her revelling throngShe’ll throw you under her shoe,To lie fractured, shattered,To join her ghoulish crew.